Faces of Red
by Seigetsu Ren
Summary: His crimson cloak had always brought her warmth against the cold nights of Feudal Japan. It was this red that had captured her heart, luring her to stay here at the center of a war-torn chapter of history. But was his love enough? InuKag, post-manga.


**Faces of Red**

The first time she laid eyes on the endless maple, fiery red with passion, swaying gently in the autumn breeze of Sengoku Jidai, she was stunned by its beauty. Her only wish at that time was to run deep, deep into the forest and immerse herself in its crimson heat, grasp the fallen leaves and scatter them into the air, lighting up the azure skies that peeked through gaps in the canopies. And that was what she had done back then – dashed through the woods and thrown herself into the burning colours that covered the undergrowth. She had been even more delighted to have noticed the quiet gush of water nearby, and tracing the faint sound, she had reached this place.

Kagome stood on this outcrop of barren rock that rose majestically from the deep canyon below. The dark surface peered through thick sheets of mist, glistening with condensing moisture. Crevices scarred the tall cliff face, coloured lichen seeking shelter within. At dawn, the sheets of fine vegetation was an emerald green, lending the cascades of water that flowed overtop a refreshing tint. By dusk, as it was now, the lichen was dark scarlet.

She felt a pang of pain thrust into her left chest, as though an arrow had driven through her heart. Blood. The colour that reflected off her eyes were tainted with such meaning. In the past, she had found security and warmth and love in that mad hue, but now, it faded to endless hurt.

Her hands were dyed in that fluid.

That hot, condemning fluid that sprayed her countenance time and again when she had to retrieve the arrows she shot.

Killing and killing and killing, not only of youkai that she could dismiss as creatures born from evil, but also humans – humans just like herself.

She thought that she was prepared.

She thought that she had accepted this.

She thought that, so long as all the beauties of Sengoku Jidai remained – the crystal clear waters and untainted forests and pure friendships and…her love – she could bear the consequences. They were minimal after all, no electricity, no running water, no central heating and internet, but all those were bearable. She had gotten used to them during her travels.

And killing too. She had killed before. It was for the sake of justice, for defeating the ultimate evil, Naraku, so it couldn't be helped. Each time she had ensured that even her slain enemies were given proper burial. She felt better that way. It was how she respected life itself.

But now…she didn't know anymore.

The boy she had killed just hours ago was barely fourteen, at most.

A soldier, and one who was about to kill her son, but…nonetheless…just a boy.

Like a record on slow-motion, the scene replayed itself in her mind. The cavalry sweeping down the hillside, trampling over all the crops they had planted and tended this entire year that only awaited harvest in the next week, charging through their mud houses, raiding their scarce grains, and setting fire on everything else. Again, it was this burning red. This hateful, disgusting red colour.

And the swords were drawn, one by one, katana shining crimson from the reflection of the blazing village. The blades were pressed against necks of fair skin – women were taken, separated from their families. The men, regardless of age, were slaughtered.

She had no choice, she reasoned. Kagome told herself that she had no choice, this time too.

She drew an arrow and fed it her prayers – sincere prayers that she would see a better world once it was released. The rush of violet energy seeped down the shaft, right to the very tip of the arrowhead, yet, the power of purity didn't bring her any forgiveness.

Her heart thudded. It hurt. It gripped her hand and asked her again and again, if she was doing the right thing.

She let the arrow fly.

The countless times in the past when she was laughed at for her poor aim – she wanted all of that back. She wanted her arrow to somehow miss and wreak another kind of havoc that she might have control over, that she had hopes of resolving. Another Naraku. Another Shikon-no-tama. Anything but this.

The battles of the Sengoku Jidai.

But she was not fifteen-years-old Higurashi Kagome anymore. She was no longer a clueless school girl who stumbled upon this time, knowing next to nothing about what to do. It was not an accident. The Sengoku Jidai was now **her** time, and this was **her** battle. She had aimed, and shot dead, the fourteen-years-old boy in front of her.

Would that have been how Souta looked when he reached that age? She could only wonder, because she would have no chance to see him again.

The still face of that soldier was haunting, filled with anguish as she stared upon him while retrieving her arrow. She almost didn't want to use the arrow again, but it was impossible – they hardly had enough steel to craft farming tools, let allow arrowheads. They were too valuable to sacrifice.

Everything in this place, at this time, were too valuable to her, but she almost wanted to cast all of them away. She had even wandered back into this forest, these waterfalls, these natural beauties that had once lured her away from her modern home. But what brought her back here now was her impossible wish of going back in time.

Going back to when she was fifteen.

Never having stumbled upon the well.

Never having come to this time.

Then everything would've been alright. Everything she now experienced would just have been a short chapter to memorize in her history textbook. She would've groaned about how boring the content was, how it was completely useless to remember all those important dates, but that would be all. It would leave no impact on her memory. It would not hurt her.

Though she would not have met him, not have born his son, not have lived a life with both of them as her all, she might've gotten by. She might've dated like a normal school girl, went to university, got a good job, married, and had kids; same number of loved ones around her, but in a peaceful, resources-rich era.

Would that have been better?

Was she naïve when she made the decision to abandon the future that was, by any logical deduction, scores more stable and painless compared to what she had now?

This was not a fairytale.

He was not an almighty prince, and she his princess, and while together, they would not live happily ever after without worries of mundane yet necessary things.

This was life. This was life in a very hard time, when battles raged endlessly, starvation struck, poor technology led to inefficient production and she must spend most of her waking hours gathering water and firewood. Here, there was nothing romantic about the starlight. They were mere distractions that filled the night skies, too dim to use for work but lighted up the fields just enough to cast shadows. Though sleeping by his side, she could not drift off completely, for the shadows would flicker, sometimes just by wind, and she would snap her eyes open again in fear of attack.

Realistically, she was wrong in choosing to live here. She should be regretting. She should want to go home.

Turning away from the waterfalls, she traced the dirt path to the goshinboku well. Though littered with leaves and undergrowth, near invisible to the foreign traveller, Kagome knew this road like the lines on her palms. All those years ago when she came and gone between the Sengoku Jidai and Heisei Japan, she had already memorized every fork in the trail, every rock and tree stump along the way. Emotions flooded her, emotions from that past. There were times when she got into arguments with him and fled, there were times when she feared her upcoming exams and rushed back to study for them, there were also times when she fervently missed her parents and family and returned, even just for short periods, to see their faces. Yet, each and every time she still came back, to this harsh, torn, ancient world.

What had brought her back? She had once thought that it was responsibility for breaking the Shikon Jewel, but later, she knew there was more. The question was, even that precious reason…was it enough for all the pain this caused?

She obtained her answer the moment she stepped into the clearing.

The heavens had turned golden, the sun a bright orb hanging on the horizon, its flames licking the snowy mountaintops in the far west. The hands of its warm rays wrapped every strand of dew-tipped grass that swayed in the wind. Though the temperature was freezing, she forgot again…lost in the sight that blanketed her, sheltering her.

Because she saw him.

"Inuyasha…"

He stood by the sacred tree, body against its thick bark, covering the arrow mark that would forever preserve her memory of their first meeting. Though knotted and bloodstained, his silver hair still shone with overwhelming grace, flowing down his battered crimson cloak.

Sometimes, Kagome struggled to understand why she loved him so much, from just their first sight and then onwards through these years. The hanyou was not an idol-like character. His skin was not flawless porcelain, but dark and rough and scarred with sword wounds. His build was impressive by sheer size, but that too was without refinement; not carefully toned muscles from selective gym exercises but a disproportionately thick right arm from fighting and a pair of massive calves that seemed more feral than human. The manner of his speech was equally crude, his temper fiery, consideration for others lacking. He was not romantic, incredibly egoistic, and all in all appeared childish, especially considering that he had lived more than two hundred years on this planet.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"And what the hell are you doing here then, Inuyasha? Worried about me?"

He turned away from her with crossed arms, giving a very fake snort of what she could only presume was his equally fake pride, "Your son is asking for dinner, and that's all I'm concerned about."

"If there's any food to cook to begin with," she retorted as playfully as she could, but it came out as a remark of genuine worry. Her tone was too low, words too muddled, and upon hearing them, her own heart sank again.

"Well, there's fish. Some just swam up to my feet while I was strolling down that oh-so-wonderfully-cool stream and I picked them up. Can't really help it. They totally insisted on being eaten."

And here, she chuckled softly into her palms. Yes, she remembered. She remembered why she loved him so much, from first sight and onwards through the years. She remembered why she loved his disproportionate arms and calves and stupidity with anything romantic and his inflated ego and that childish pattern of speech that he had not bothered to improve on for more than two hundred years.

He was real.

And though he never kept these words on his tongue, his actions spoke them everyday: he loved her.

"What were you waiting for then? Cook and eat them! Or is the great Inuyasha-sama secretly a terrible cook?"

"Shut up, **wench**."

"**Osuwari**!"

**BANG**

"Hey, I thought we got over this sucker body slam stage already!" he complained while he dusted the leaves off his clothes after scrambling to his feet. Kagome's chuckles had now become true laughter, and she was doubling over, hands holding her stomach.

"Sorry…I can't help it…that was so cute."

"Cute? Are you sadistic?"

"Well…maybe…just a little…especially when it comes to you," she struggled to answer between her mad giggles. When she finally settled down, she held onto Inuyasha's hand and leaned into his shoulder, "And…it was like the old times."

At this, he didn't answer. He just yanked at her hand and led her away from the goshinboku, away from all her deep regrets.

She did not resist.

She did not turn back again, even once.

Because what lay beyond the well, no matter how wonderful, was no longer her home. This was.

Even as she forced in the sight of their village, reduced to ashes, her friends and her son digging graves in the sun-baked, cracking ground behind their house, now just incomplete slabs of brick with several remaining wooden beams, she stayed standing.

Because he gave her hand a gentle squeeze and muttered under his breath, so quietly that she almost wondered if he was speaking to her, "Admitting that you're weak means that you'll become stronger."

"We'll become stronger," she added.

Pretending to ignore her, he stretched his arms into the crisp, evening air, inhaling deeply for a big yawn before turning his golden eyes to the ruins, "Isn't it nice to have nothing to leave behind?"

"What?"

"I'm splitting some land in the west with that idiotic brother of mine, you know, the fricking **kingdom** of my late dad's? It's cold and the scenery is boring with just rock and trees and some lowlife evil youkai too, but you're coming with me. Because you're my mate."

She smiled, tears brimming her eyes as she did so. Again, without a word, he had read her wishes and answered them. That was all she needed.

Even though it would be a cold and boring and youkai-filled land, wars would no longer reach them. And most importantly…

…they'd still be together.

"It's settled then," she said.

**- The End -**

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><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong> Hope everyone enjoyed this one-shot. I'd love to hear your feedback regarding both the story and my writing mechanics. This is the first time I've attempted to write an InuKag fic, and I found it interesting to investigate the possibility of their relationship after Kagome permanently settled in the feudal era. While the fifteen-year-old Kagome from the anime/manga was a fun character in her own right, I quite liked picturing her with a more mature personality, dealing with more real problems than just fighting demons and running from Naraku. I wanted to show the depth of her sacrifice to abandon her modern life for a much more...minimal one with Inuyasha, and also wanted to tell a story regarding just what magic did the hanyou possess to enchant her into this decision. Hope you liked it; it was certainly an interesting exercise for me.**  
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